Kids These Days

Oh sure, young man, you know it all. I guess you’ve just figured everything out. You know exactly what life has to offer. Yeah, I know. I’ve been there. But let me tell you something: You don’t know a thing.

Life isn’t about Playstation and trying to feel up young women. Those are nice things, sure, but you think that’s what life is? It’s not--and I know, son. I’ve been on this earth for 23 years, and I’ve learned a thing or two. No, no, life isn’t about Full House marathons, or two-for-a dollar tacos, which seems like a great deal until you find a pubic hair. Life is all about candiru fish. Oh, never heard of it, have you? Well, that’s surprising. I imagined Miley might have covered that in one of her songs.

Yeah, of course I’m being facetious you pubescent ignoramus. I wouldn’t know in the first place, and from all I can tell, her subject matter extends about as far as semi-threatening boys in old pickup trucks--so you know they have that ever-so-charming down-home quality to them. But shut up, kid, I’m not done. I’ll leave you plenty of time to get back to that Jonas Brothers concert. And that’s another thing: Back in my day, rock stars had unprotected sex with women of ill repute, and we loved them for it. But that’s beside the point.

Hey, go get me a beer so I can get my thoughts together...

(Several minutes later)

Thanks kid. Anyway—damn, that’s good—you want a beer? You’re 12? Never stopped me, but suit yourself.

Listen here: you don’t know a thing, regardless of what your TAAS test score might have me believe. Have you ever woken up in a gorilla suit, covered in blood? No? Yeah, exactly--you don’t know a thing. Have you ever bought a woman an engagement ring and proposed as part of an elaborate April Fool’s joke? No, that’s not mean—that’s life, kid.

Have you ever spit whiskey at an active member of congress? Ha. Then what do you know? What could you possibly know about life until you’ve been tazed by a Puerto Rican ice-head in a clown suit?

Have you ever written a beautiful script—set onboard an ill-fated steam liner, of a love so strong it transcends all economic and social barriers—only to find out that Titanic came out ten fucking years ago? I didn’t think so. But that’s what life is all about, kid. Well, that, and the candiru fish.

Oh, right, the candiru fish.

If you really want to know what life is all about, consider the candiru fish. It’s a small, parasitic fish native to the Amazon. Anyhow, it’s been known to swim up your urethra when you’re taking a piss. It gets lodged in there—in your pee hole—until a doctor removes it, which sometimes takes surgery. Stop crying—you’re almost a man. Start acting like it.

So you want to know what life is? Life is hanging out in a river, taking a piss, when all of a sudden a fish with spines on its back lodges itself in your urethra. Oh, it’s never happened to me personally, but this guy I know—he had to have surgery, and when they were done with him, it looked like he had a bunch of Slim Jims hanging from his lower torso.

I’m not saying it will happen to you. I’m just saying that it could; and if it doesn’t, something equally bad will happen—the candiru is just a metaphor, you see. It could be an ex-wife who lodges herself in your urethra—or the IRS—or a maybe a pushy 12-year-old. But at some point down the line, you’ll be the candiru fish, willfully swimming up someone else’s urethra. And that, young man, is what living is all about. Do you understand? Good. Now dry those eyes. It’s time for your Little League game.

Excerpts From "The Sexiest Vampire"

Dylan and Maria lay in Maria’s bed talking about nothing in particular. The sun was going down, and Dylan felt hungry for blood. Or Taco Bell, maybe. Maria got up to go to the bathroom, and Dylan feigned sleep. He knew that if he was asleep, he might be allowed to stay the night. Humans, unlike vampires, are hesitant to wake someone when they’re asleep--a charming attribute, Dylan thought.

Behind his closed eyes, he listened as the sink ran, and he went over his game plan. She’d lie down, and maybe try to rile him awake. He’d whimper and sort of roll around a little. Eventually, she’d accept it. Then it would be groping time.

The sink stopped and he let his mouth hang agape just a bit. He tried to pull air through his nasal passages to produce a snoring sound. Through his eyelids, he could see that the sun had almost set.

Dylan heard Maria walk into her room, but she didn’t shut the door. She sat on the bed, and shook him. “Dylan,” she said, whispering at first. “Dylan.”

She shook him harder, but he remained steadfast. “Dylan--,” she finally said. “My Dad said you have to leave.”

Dylan employed phase two, and rolled over gingerly. “What?” he groaned, “Did I fall asleep?”

“I guess,” said Maria. “But, um, aren’t you a vampire?”
“Of course I am,” whimpered Dylan, still holding tight to the plan.
“I thought vampires don’t sleep at night.”
“No, yeah, I know,” Dylan said, sitting up finally. “I just thought...”
“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” she said, pulling him toward the door.
Dylan wanted to protest, but he couldn’t.
“Man, this is bullshit,” he finally said.
“What?” she said.
“Nothing.”

Excerpts From "The Sexiest Vampire"

“Please,” said Maria. “I’m not asking you to give up your family. I’m asking you to love me.”

Dylan’s eyes stood on hers unflinching. Through her hand, he felt something virgin, something new. That rare and exhilarating feeling of going somewhere you don’t know—of watching something that you don’t quite understand.

Looking into her eyes, Maria was at a dramatic precipice. Dylan wanted to pull her back. He wanted to pull her into his arms and reassure her, protect her. But the feeling was so new, so powerful and so foreign that he balked at the idea. Is this love? he thought. Is this it?

These are the moments, the decisions, which will not be forgotten, for good or for ill. Strangely, Dylan recognized this. And as he walked away from Maria, as he saw that rare, anxious energy deflating, he held his head a little higher.

Dylan knew that it wasn’t love. No, Dylan knew that this strange feeling was not a real love for Maria, but rather a severe case of diarrhea.

Dylan hoped the kids would turn out all right. Then he started running, because it was really severe diarrhea.

Reginald Pennyfarthing’s Golden Rules For Elegance, Success, and More Laudanum Than You Could Ever Handle

Vol. 1: Behaviour

1.Remember that being a Dandy, and thereby living a successful (if not always coherent) life, is about superiority. Do not attempt to find commonality with your underlings. Whether a Burger King employee or a savage on the island of Borneo, Reginald Pennyfarthing leaves no doubt as to who is the British gentleman and who is the very dross of society. Perhaps you shouldn’t either.

2.Treat ladies as ladies. Once, I was in a stagecoach passing through the interior of Siam, when I saw a young native woman on the side of the road. She looked rather tired and famished. Naturally, I was disgusted. However, Reginald Pennyfarthing is nothing if not a gentleman. I hit my driver with a crop whip and instructed him to halt. That he did, and for a mere three pence, I allowed the young woman to hold onto the side of our coach for most of the rest of her journey. If she wasn’t so filthy, I rather fancy I could’ve had her in my bedchamber that night. The lesson is, treat a lady like a lady.

3.Naguib Mahfouz, who I’d imagine is some sort of Indian guide, once said, “You can tell whether a man is clever by his answers. You can tell whether a man is wise by his questions.” Well, that bit rings nice, but I’m here to tell you it’s utterly untrue. Dandies aren’t dandies because they ask questions; they are dandies because they ridicule those who do. Should you be asked a question to which you don’t have the answer, chuckle in such a condescending way that all those around you will find the asker to be a dullard not fit for your company.

4.There is never a situation ill suited for a drink. A funeral, a baby shower, even an alcoholics anonymous meeting—a true dandy does not turn down a drink, unless, of course, it is offered by an underling, in which case you deride him for whatever swill he is drinking. And then take it.

5.Thou shalt wear a moustache. This is an easy one. Of course, the moustache has gone out of fashion somewhat courtesy of your Cosmopolitans and Men’s Healths of the world, which distribute anti-moustache propaganda like the very Josef Goebbels of facial hair. But this shouldn’t stop you from cultivating your moustache with all the care of a newborn. And despite what women might say, know this: They love the bristly feel of a man’s ‘tache against their face.

Next: Vol. 2: Diet